To Catch the Wild
by Cortney-Elznic
Summary: An alternate take on the beginning of To Tame the Wild. Set after Dead Man's Gun. One-shot.


Jack Marston stared down at the shot glass in his hands, wondering if he'd overdo it again tonight. He hadn't felt like doing much after he killed Edgar Ross, except drink and wander around New Austin. Before he passed through Armadillo, however, he changed his mind, and after dropping his horse off at the livery, he walked into the saloon without so much as a second thought as to how hung over he was going to be the next day. He picked up the shot and threw it back, enjoying the burn of the alcohol as it raced down his throat and into his stomach. It would be the first of many, no doubt. He waved the bartender over and said, "Give me another."

"Ya ought ta slow 'er down, son. No sense in gettin' pissed up this early in the day."

"Why the hell not? I don't have much else to live for, anyway."

The man didn't know what to say, so he poured him another shot and slid it towards him. Jack took it eagerly and waited for the buzz to kick in. It was truly the only thing he felt nowadays, besides crippling guilt and depression. Hell, he had buried his mother only a month ago and avenged his father not too long after that. To his surprise, killing the man who murdered his father didn't satiate his bloodlust for revenge like he thought it would…and neither did the fourteen lawmen he'd killed afterwards…

_So now what?_ he thought as he spun the empty shot glass around in his hand. _What is it all for? What have I got to look forward to, besides this third shot I'm about to have?_ He looked up at the bartender, asked for another shot, and as the man poured it, he looked past the man's shoulder at the painting of the lying nude woman with her back turned to him. _Would be nice to see that in person_, he thought with a little grin as he reached for the shot glass once more.

Movement out of the corner of his eye caused him to pause and look over his shoulder. He blinked and felt his eyes widen at the sight of a beautiful woman standing in the doorway, her hands pushing the batwing doors aside with a haughty confidence. Her long dark brown hair flowed long from underneath her black Stetson hat, and her dark duster was covered in trail dust. Underneath her duster, she sported man's clothing, clothing that Jack couldn't help but notice fit her feminine form quite nicely, complete with a black vest, tan shirt, a red silk rag tied around her neck, and dark brown pants. Hanging from her shoulder was a worn satchel with a lasso tied to it. Strapped to her back was a Henry repeater; hanging on her hips were duel semi-automatic pistols.

Still spellbound, like every other man in the room, Jack watched as she sauntered up to the opposite side of the bar from where he stood and leaned her elbows against the counter. She waved the bartender over and, in a voice so low he could barely hear, said, "Whiskey, if you would, please." The man poured her a shot, and she threw it back without a sputter or cough.

Jack blinked. _Damn_, he thought. _Who is she?_

And that was when they made eye contact. The woman stared directly into his eyes from across the bar, making him shift his weight from one foot to the other. Her dark brown eyes pierced through him, as if to say, _Who do you think you are looking at me?_

Jack immediately looked away, suddenly embarrassed and uneasy. The woman briefly took her gaze off him to order another shot. After she threw it back, she sat the empty shot glass on the counter with a slight thump. Their eyes met once more; a glimmer of recognition entered her eyes, and she began to study him more closely. Jack couldn't help but look her over as well, but after a while, he began to feel uneasy. When he could stand it no longer, he paid for his drinks and left, walking briskly to the livery to retrieve his horse and get the hell out of town.

He was halfway there when he heard someone brusquely say, "Marston!" He flinched and looked back over his shoulder. He blinked. It was the same mysterious woman from the saloon, standing fifteen yards behind him.

"You thinkin' 'bout runnin' off, boy? You can't outrun your fate much longer."

Jack scoffed as he turned and faced her. "I don't know what you're talkin' about, lady."

"The fuck you don't! You're a wanted man, _Jack Marston_, and I'm bringin' you in!"

Out of the corner of his eyes, Jack saw a crowd forming. He licked his lips. "Miss, I'm not who you think I am."

"Then how do you explain THIS?" She reached into her duster with her left hand and held up a wanted poster with his name and likeness sketched upon it.

He swallowed thickly. Before he could think of something to say or do, the woman, quicker than he could follow, drew her right pistol and aimed it at his chest. "Don't even _think_ about drawin' on me, boy. I got no problem shootin' a murderin' bastard like you. Now, put them hands up high, and no foolishness from you. If I see you go for your gun, you're a dead man. You understand?"

Jack blinked and looked her over. "Who ARE you, lady?"

"That's none of your goddamn business. Now, put your hands up." She began to slowly walk towards him, her gun unwavering from its aim. As she approached, she stuffed the bounty poster back into the inner pocket of her duster. Then with her free hand, she untied her lasso from her satchel. Jack took a few steps back, his hands slightly raised.

"Don't you take another step, boy," the woman hissed. "You turn and run, I'll shoot you dead."

Jack snorted. "You can't expect me to just stand here and give myself up to some lady with no name."

"You sure as shit will, or you'll die."

A short guffaw escaped his lips. "This ain't the first time someone's threatened me at gunpoint, lady."

"It'll be the last time if you don't behave, boy." She came up to him, lasso at the ready as she slowly crept around him. "Now put your hands behind your back, or I'll blow a hole in you."

"Tough talk comin' from such a little lady," Jack laughed.

His humor was extinguished and replaced with icy dread as he felt the barrel of her gun against his back between his shoulder blades. "Keep that up and you'll be coughin' up blood, mister. _Now, put your hands behind your back!"_

He swallowed thickly and slowly began to acquiesce. However, just as he felt the lasso being draped over his wrists, he jerked his right elbow up, bashing her in the face and knocking her off her feet. Jack took the chance and bolted towards the livery.

"YOU SON OF A BITCH! GET BACK HERE!"

"FUCK YOU, LADY!" he screamed back over his shoulder as he raced to his horse. He could see the Dark Horse standing in a stall, still saddled and waiting for him to return.

Something wrapped itself around his waist, catching his arms and forcing them to his sides. He toppled forward, but then he was jerked back. The wind was knocked out of him as he landed hard on his back, and he lay there trying to breathe. Jack looked down at himself and realized he'd been roped.

"You ain't gettin' away from me that easily, Marston," the woman growled as she walked up to him, keeping the rope taut.

"Y-you bitch!" he managed to grunt out. He groaned as she kicked him in the side, then rolled him onto his back. He felt her boot jam into the center of his back as she put her full weight on top of him and grabbed his wrists, wrenching them behind his back and wrapping them tightly.

"Call me that all you want, you little shit, but you've still been captured."

As he lay there grunting and trying to breathe, the woman remained by his side as she straightened up and whistled loudly. Moments later, a black mare with a white mane and tail and a white sock on her back left pastern came loping up to her. The horse stopped beside her rider, nickering softly.

"That's my girl, Gypsy," the woman said and patted her on the neck.

Then, to Jack's amazement, she bent down, grabbed him around the torso, and hefted him up and over her horse's rump. He easily outweighed her, but she still managed to pick him up. Once he was tied to the saddle, the woman mounted her horse and nudged her sides, sending the mare off into a happy lope out of town heading north.

Once he regained his breath, Jack fidgeted against his tethers and roared, "You crazy bitch, untie me!"

The woman threw her head back as she let out a guffaw. "Like I haven't heard that one before."

"You can't do this to me! I'm Jack Marston!"

She slapped him across the head with the back of her hand. "Right now you're a mouthy little prick who's tied up on the back of my horse. Now, I'd get to shuttin' my mouth if I were you. It's gonna be an even longer journey with you back-talkin' me."

"Well, why not save yourself the trouble and just shoot me then? It would've saved me from this hell."

She scoffed. "You're worth more to me alive. There's a thousand-dollar bounty on your head, Marston! You think I'm gonna pass that opportunity up by shooting you and only getting half of that?"

"Or you're just a yellowbelly and couldn't gun me down."

Again, she slapped him. "Like I said, Marston, you're worth more to me alive, or has that not sunk into that thick ugly skull of yours?"

"Not when you keep smackin' me around like some cheap whore."

"Well, you certainly smell like one. Christ, Marston, when's the last time you took a bath? I suppose bein' on the run doesn't give you much time for hygiene, huh?"

Jack fought harder against his restraints. "To hell with you, lady! I was doin' just fine in Armadillo, then you gotta show up and ruin my good time."

She glanced back at him with a cocked eyebrow. "So gettin' drunk in a saloon is your way of havin' a good time?" She shook her head. "You really are a goddamn low-life, ain't you?"

"Comin' from the bitch who was drinkin' as well, I don't think that's sayin' much."

"I was thirsty. Hell, I needed a couple shots after seein' your ugly face."

Jack scowled up at her. "Well, ain't you just the most charming lady I've ever come across."

She smirked back at him. "I do what I can, kid. You, on the other hand, need a lesson on manners."

"I could say the same to you."

The lady laughed. "Touché."

A moment of silence passed between them.

"So, are you some sort of bounty hunter or lawwoman, then? I didn't know they let little girls do that sort of shit."

Her fist collided against the side of his face. "I'm not some 'little girl', Mister Marston, and I'd appreciate it if you never spoke to me like that again. I am _not _opposed to shooting you, so keep that in mind."

Jack shook his head, dazed. "Go ahead, lady. Shoot me. It's not like I've got much else left to live for."

"Well, at least you're honest with yourself." She glanced back at him and snorted. "You know, kid, you don't look like much up close. I was expecting as much when I first saw your wanted poster, and after reading your file from Blackwater, I'm even more positive of my opinion of you."

Jack scoffed. "You read my file? What the hell for?"

"A wise man once said "Know thy enemy". You see, with every bounty I've brought in, I've read their file beforehand. Knowledge is a beautiful, useful thing, Jack, especially in the case of dealing with outlaws like you. Tell me, Jack, do you enjoy killing lawmen and the occasional innocent woman?"

"Well, since I'm under the full force of your interrogation, and since you're so eager to listen to an answer you already know is coming, I suppose I do. But it's not like them lawmen and government agents were any better than me. They see someone like me, a man-"

"A villainous coward."

"-who's been wronged many times over, and they decide to go after him, shooting without question. I've been pursued, lady, make no mistake about that, but Iwasn't the one opening fire and raising hell on my horse."

"So you think your reasoning to kill them was justified?"

Jack stiffened in outrage as he yelled, "_It was self-defense, lady! _What else was I supposed to do?"

"You could have stopped and given yourself up to them."

"Like they would've given me the chance! They opened fire on me in the middle of nowhere, around Hennigan's Stead as I was ridin' along minding my own goddamned business!"

"So what about the marshal and two sheriffs that rode up to your house before that?" she demanded sharply. "What about Horton, Andrew, and Frank Gossler? How do you explain your reasoning then? 'Self-defense'?"

"I…" He fell silent, bereft of a logical answer.

"Admit it, Marston. You shot them all in cold blood."

"I DID NOT! They had no business ridin' onto my property like that unannounced! They scared me is all…"

She turned around in the saddle, looked him in the eyes, and asked, "So, you're saying you were frightened of these three when all they were doing was investigating the disappearance of Edgar Ross?" Her eyes narrowed suspiciously as they searched his. "What were you so afraid of that made you gun down those men without a second thought?"

His cold-hearted mask kept him from revealing his deepest secret. _Oh God_, he thought. _Does she know? Does anyone know?_

The lady shook her head as she turned around in the saddle. "You really are a dumb-shit, Mister Marston. I don't think I've ever met a man as stupid as you."

Jack laughed. "And I've never met a woman as manly as you."

Suddenly, she drew her pistol and held it to his forehead, glancing back at him as she hissed, "Did you have anything to do with the disappearance of Edgar Ross?"

He kept his mouth shut and stared at her with an annoyed countenance.

"ANSWER ME! Did you kill him?!"

"No," he lied brilliantly, his voice soft and low. "No, I did not."

With a frustrated growl, she holstered her gun and turned back around. The rest of the ride was spent in silence. However, the silence was shattered the moment they rode onto MacFarlane's ranch. The lady kept her horse at a brisk lope, but the moment she and Jack noticed Bonnie, who was standing over by the barn talking to some of the ranch hands, the woman urged her horse faster. The mare quickened her pace, but just as they were about the pass, Bonnie turned and looked at Jack on the back of the woman's horse.

The blonde-haired woman shrieked and sprinted in front of the lady's horse, causing the mare to slide to a stop before her. Bonnie grabbed the reins, glared up at the woman, and roared, "WHAT THE HELL IS HE DOIN' ON THE BACK OF YOUR HORSE?!"

As if she hadn't just been yelled at, the lady bounty hunter shrugged and laughed, "I told you I was goin' after him, Bonnie. You can't stop me from bringin' him into Blackwater. I'm gettin' that thousand dollars, whether you like it or not."

"I TOLD YOU NOT TO GO AFTER HIM!"

"And I told YOU to stay outta my business!"

Bonnie grabbed onto the woman's arm and started yanking her down out of the saddle.

"Bonnie, what the hell are you doin'?! Let go of me!"

"I'm doin' what should've been done." She looked around her, met eyes with the group of ranch hands she'd been talking with, and ordered, "Help me with this crazy woman! Get Jack off her horse and into a cell at the jail."

"NO!" the bounty hunter roared, but it was already too late. By the time she'd half-fallen, half-dismounted her horse, the ranch hands had taken Jack off the back of her mare, cut his legs free, and were escorting him to the jail with guns at the ready.

"Goddamn you, Bonnie! What the hell are you doin'?! There goes the thousand dollars! I needed that money! Hell, _you_ needed that money, with how your ranch has been goin' lately!"

Bonnie turned and faced the woman with a venomous glare. She pointed to her and hissed, "One more word from you, missy, and I'll have you thrown in jail along with Jack. Understand? I TOLD you not to go after Jack, and you did it anyway! If you're gonna be livin' here and workin' here, you'd better listen to what I say!"

The lady bounty hunter returned the glare. "Since when have you ever cared about the men I bring in?" She gestured angrily to Jack, who was in a cell by that point and watching their argument intently. "This boy is just as guilty as the other ones I've brought in!"

"He's the son of John Marston!"

"I don't give a good goddamn about who his father is! He's still a fucking _outlaw!_"

"I've seen good in this boy! He deserves a second chance like his father!"

"Did you even look at that boy's poster?" the lady demanded, throwing her face into Bonnie's. "Do you not know what all that kid's done? He's killed fourteen people, Bonnie! FOURTEEN PEOPLE! There's no second chance for that psychopath! You should've heard him on the way here. He doesn't care about people's lives. He only knows one thing, and that's killing. He's too far gone, Bonnie!"

Bonnie got even closer to her; their noses were almost touching as the two women stared each other down. "I can save him. I have to. You know why."

"Let the past be past, Bonnie. You don't owe John a fuckin' thing. Besides, how the goddamn hell are you gonna 'save' this boy? Look at that sick son of a bitch in there! _Look at him, Bonnie!_ He's nothing but a criminal, someone who _cannot_ be redeemed for all the terrible shit he's done."

Bonnie looked over at Jack, who stood awkwardly staring back at her with a sheepish countenance. He hadn't seen her since she came looking for him in the desert of Gaptooth Ridge. Her last words to him came rushing back into his mind as he looked into her blue eyes. _Well, whatever you do, don't forget about the people that care about you, the livin' ones, at least. You don't have many friends, so I'd be careful how you handle things, Jack Marston._

To his relief, she looked back at the bounty hunter and said, "He'll carry his sentence here, on the ranch. We'll work him half to death if we have to, but we'll reform him. He'll learn the value of hard work and purpose in life."

The lady stared at her. "You can't be fuckin' serious, Bonnie."

"I am, and you're gonna help me."

"The fuck I will!"

Bonnie narrowed her eyes. "Yes, you will. You'll do it or you'll be off my ranch by sundown. Understood?"

The lady looked away, huffing and glaring off into space. A long moment passed before she growled, "Fine." She looked back at her as she added, "But if this doesn't work, and he fucks up and kills another person or escapes, I'm blaming it all on you, Bonnie. What you're wantin' to do with this little prick is downright stupid."

"However stupid you think it is isn't gonna change my mind. John would've wanted his son to have a second chance, and I'm givin' him that. Now, you go take care of your horse. She looks tired and hungry. The hands and I will take care of Jack."

Without another word, the bounty hunter turned and mounted her horse, then rode her over to the stables, disappearing from Jack's view. All eyes then went to Jack, who shifted his weight from one boot to the other and frowned.

"Well, boys," Bonnie said as she glanced at her ranch hands, "we've got work to do."


End file.
